The Truth
by Uselesspill
Summary: I think Pokemon battles should be bloody and goryso here it is.
1. Chapter 1

The Truth

Rain had come before Ash. He was the little-spoken-of elder brother. Ash often LIED, in fact. Ash was an only child. Even his mother lied, at times. The truth was, Rain had a bad reputation, not like the pure-hearted trainer his brother (and most bloody trainers these days) was. His foes often died in front of him. He'd seen weeping girls, death and blood, all from these fighting creatures…But that's how it should be, Rain thought. A REAL match. Not jousting until a fall, but ending it all. If Rain's companions fell, they fell in battle.

Rain had the green eyes of the Ketchum family, but on him, they were very dark. A green inkwell, an uneasy sea. And the black spikes that looked cute on his kid brother hung way below Rain's waist, so pointed at the end, they could core apples. He wore black, but not to be cool. He felt dark, and towns spoke of his 'dark business.' He just wanted to look the part.

His crew was made up of only two pokemon-Rain didn't believe in collecting to show off, or unnecessary weight. His fighters had to prove their worth before they traveled with him, and he knew it would be a long time before he would catch another. He owned a huge Murkrow, whom had gotten the nickname 'Jack' whilst destroying the poke populatation of the small surrounding towns, so Jack he stayed. Jack was a huge Murkrow, as mentioned, with hanging wings like a vulture that almost met at the top. Jack possessed the spikes in his feathers characteristic of a Murkrow, but not the broad-rimmed feathers others had. His talons were like scalpels, and Rain often hunted with Jack. Rain had seen Jack rip through pokemon like paper, even attempt to eat the leftovers unless the opposing owner begged mercy. Rain's pokedex had this to say about Jack: 'Murkrow: Feared and loathed by many, it is believed to bring misfortune to all those who see it at night.' Jack was certainly 'feared and loathed', and the misfortune was usually the bitter end of the opposing pokemon, no matter how loved and well-trained.

The second in Rain's squad was, unusually, an Azumarill. He had not gotten a traveling nickname, but this particular Azumarill also didn't look the same as all the rest. Firstly, his face was scarred by age, and the red eyes betrayed the slight insanity that lay within. The right ear had a huge scar running right around it, and the ball in the tail wasn't used for buoyancy in the water-nay, it couldn't be, for the ball was now solid rock. Rain had performed the surgery his-self and remembered the fateful day entirely.

Azumarill took a beating in his younger years at the hands of Rain-A huge Arcanine had gotten hold of the pillowy ball, and swung the creature round it's firey head. Rain panicked-he'd heard a snap. Sure enough, the Arcanine had bitten the tissue clean off, and there was blood squirting alarmingly. The opposing trainer called for help whilst Rain wrapped the creature in a tight blanket, but refused the help of nurse Joy when she arrived on the scene. With blunt instruments and cooking utensils, Rain performed the operation on his beloved fighter, on a rough anesthetic of whiskey. He put pressure on the wound to stop the bleeding, then knocked Azumarill out with the alcohol. For many hours, he carefully shaped a boulder, whittling it with some sort of tool. Though the pokemon cried out, Rain stetched the skin taught around the hard sphere. Months of training lay ahead as the creature learned to carry the new weight, and swing its tail with ferocity. It paid off. Yes, this Azumarill had seen many years, but fought like a madman.

That was the past, but currently Rain was fighting a rather huge Meganium, with its arrogant young trainer at its side. He had an upturned nose with a smattering of freckles, rust-coloured hair and a piercing laugh. He boasted of the crushing power in the Meganium's foot, claming he was a 'dark trainer' like Rain. Whatever that meant.

"Yeah man, blood, guts, ALL that good stuff." He laughed. Rain just nodded, throwing his custom silver poke ball at the rough pitch. He could feel Azumarill rocking inside his pokeball, willing to fight it out, but Rain often liked to see his Azumarill rest a large amount of the day, with his age.

Jack was called to the field, unnervingly spreading his wingspan. The rusty trainer whistled between his teeth.

"Gee, I've heard all about THAT thing. Still, It'll have to be pretty damn quick to keep up with Meganium, unless you LIKE eating Murkrow liver pate, that is. Because Megs will smush him up real good if that's the case!"

Rain nodded coolly, hating his ignorance. "Would you like the first move?" He enquired.

"Well I don't know. Do you have any of that trainer code shit? Because I consider that cheating. A nod here, a click there? Don't give me that bullshit. I wanna hear your commands loud and clear."

"You can't have heard that much about me then, for loud and clear is the way I battle. Codes are unnecessary unless danger lurks."

"Well WHATEVER man. I'll have the first move, yeah." He grinned. The pokemon faced each other, around seven feet apart. The trainer cleared his throat. "Meganium, body slam, now!"

The leaf pokemon hurtled towards where Jack perched rather clumsily.

"Quick attack." Rain said from bowed head. It was only JUST hearable. When Meganium was around three feet away, Jack took a quick flight towards him. The Meganium slumped to the ground and Jack took to his trainers shoulder. It wasn't clear what was wrong with the Meganium until a number of internal organs fell out. Jack had gashed a quick, clean cut across the creatures chest, but Rain did not let the Murkrow eye up the liver and organs, but snapped the pokeball shut on his fighter. The opposing trainer burst into tears, hugging the huge form to his chest. It was an uneasy sight as organs squelched beneath him and he was covered in bile and other liquids. The creatures head lolled on his shoulder.

"I don't deny a fight, but I ask thoroughly that the other trainer know what they are doing." Rain stated. "I could have saved your dinosaur pet, but the gash is too deep, as you see. I recommend you bury his form and tone down your arrogance. You never know when another soul will be lost." Rain turned on his heel, ready to exit the forest, but the trainers tears turned to hatred.

"That was my fucking Meganium, man! Raised from a fucking SEED. You better give me a LOT of money or let me kill that godamn crow thing you carry on your back!"

Rain smiled. "I accept the damage Jack has done, but they are creatures controlled by man. They're no more evil than you or me. Both Jack and Meganium would have killed in the wild, Meganium has probably killed smaller foes, am I right?"

The trainer hung his head.

"That's right." Rain smiled. "A couple of Jigglypuffs, a Pidgey, nothing more. I will help the healing process, but I can do no more."

With that, Rain got on his hands and knees, and dug a shallow trench with his hands and sharp fingernails. The soil seemed to obey his very touch, parting and gathering with his will, until the dead one could be piled into it. Rain left another deathscene, and thought to himself "On to my next adventure."


	2. Chapter 2

Rain could really surprise himself. Just now, looking over his memories (a travel journal he kept by his side...Ever since childhood.) tears involuntarily sprung to his eyes. There was an entry on Cherokee…If there was ever a closer thing to love, this was it. The girl annoyed him, it was true, but he loved her, in a strange, other-worldly way, a world of non-involvement and cool hostility. When he was a young adolescent, she was still a little child…And in his thirties, that four-year age gap had somehow closed itself, though she was the picture of youth…Not that Rain would know, it was a long time since a visit to Pallet…But when he visited, two years ago, he had not been disappointed.

Cherokee had a vast amount of chestnut hair, that kinked into a coil at the end, and hung way below her waist. Her eyes were also dark green, she often WORE green (cut-off dungarees, summer dresses, Capri pants), and her face was still that of a 10-year olds. Rain grew up with Cherokee, and Mist, his childhood friend, who he would reminisce about later. When they were young, they of course had a more innocent touch around pokemon. They would help the younger village children raise their cocoons into Butterfrees and Beedrills ("It's all in the massage!" Rain would say.) And give advice about the care of the tame pokemon in the wild grass-the perfect feed for Pidgeys, How to not scare the local Oddishes, etc. Cherokee collected pokemon-she did not fight them-and everything was a new project. She raised tiny Jigglypuffs into huge tame bloaters, and when little girls cried, envious of Cherokee's Jigglypuffs softer curls and sweeter lullabies, she would give them away as pets. She'd raise common wild pokemon, setting them running in her yard, eating her own-recipe food, her floors scattered with pokeballs. She'd buy rare types from unsuitable trainers, build them up and set them free. She'd owned many types, the difficult, aggressive and the passive. She'd witnessed deaths and births and was capable and driven with every kind, no-one a lost cause. When she eventually got into fighting (her early teens) her squad was constantly changing. Her only constants were a Pidgey she'd raised from an injured baby (who'd never evolved…He was age-old but his growth was stunted, and though a fierce fighter, never quite seemed capable of the change) and a Misdreavus that always floated free, around her shoulder. It seemed to have quite a blank stare, and a bit of a drool. However, it had a cold manner and its attacks knocked a foe right out-it's psybeam was particularly cruel, and unusually purple in colour, as opposed to silver. The Pidgey matched Jack-it too tore out vital organs and such. Cherokee reminded Rain so much of himself sometimes-pokemon often had to prove their worth to Cherokee, too. Blood-stained and amputated she'd find them, raising them to be the fiercest fighters or the cutest pets, at random will.

Mist was his companion since birth. Their mothers lived next door to each other, for a start. Mist had a lot of long, straight scarlet hair, and dark eyes. He too often wore black, but his ideals were far from dark. He looked on every pokemon with kindness, especially water pokemon, but now they were bitter against each other. Rivals perhaps, except Mist avoided Rain in disgust. He said that Rain had turned away from the truth, slaughtering pokemon in battle when knocking the opponent out was perfectly acceptable. Rain argued the truth WAS death, but Mist had walked away. They'd had one more battle after that, a rematch, years after adolescence, and Mist claimed he would make Rain see the lighter side, by only knocking out his whole squad, but Jack and Azumarill had assaninated Mist's whole squad. All six of them. Fallen after another. Mist ran from battle, tears in his eyes. Rain buried the blood-stained carcasses, looking at the glassy stare of the eyes, swatting Jack away from the exposed meat, head in his hands often. Destruction. He looked at it. A dark battler, he was. And how? He didn't know how impossible his talent was. The corpses were piled high. A Tauros here. But defeated by a Murkrow? How? It was so big…The skull of a Pinsir smashed in by Azumarill's boulder-tail. Various limbs scattered around, a head…Jesus. He pushed the remains into a deep grave, patted the soil firm, bowed his head and left the scene. A scene he would have to leave many, many times in the future. But the grief was worth it. One day, it could happen to him. But the risk was a rush. The urge of him and his team to get better. Through age and strife and attack and ill-will and bad reputation and so much blood.


	3. Chapter 3

It was no secret that one of the daughters on Moo Moo Farm whored herself out. Rain visited that morning, and tried not to think of Cherokee.

Upon his exit, he sat on a tree stump and thought of many things. His name, for instance. It was common in his town, Pallet, that children be named after elements and surroundings and so on. He had friends named Tree, known a girl called Earth. He was called Rain because it rained insistently the day he was born. Ash was named Ash because Ash is meant to be the calm after a fire. Mist was named Mist because it was particularly Misty the day he was born. However, Cherokee had Cherokee blood, and so she was named.

He also thought of the Pokemon that had impressed him in his time. He had seen a Sentret bolt out of the woods when he and his squad were eating once, and rip a Pidgey to bits before his eyes. After eating its flesh, it turned its attentions to Jack, wrapping itself around him and bearing its teeth at his throat. Rain simply laughed, amused at the pokemon's courage. When he raised a stick to beat the pokemon off, it flinched, bolting down a hole. "That Sentret took on Jack," Rain thought. "I have to catch it, train it well." However, upon trying to smoke the Sentret out, it did not run out the other end.

Rain got to his feet, wondering when he would train a new fighter. He never tired of his squad, but they were well trained now, and he wished for a new apprentice sometimes, but not just any apprentice obviously. He wished for the Sentret most of all…

Before he could collect his train of thought, a kid came towards him, wearing black. His hair was kind of dirty blonde.

"Look." Rain addressed him. "I know you think you're a dark trainer and all that. But I don't even call MYSELF that. I see you have six pokemon. Jack would tear through them all, so I beg you to walk on."

The kid looked amused, wearing a half-smile. He can only have been about fourteen. "I wish to battle one-on-one. I know the consequences."

Rain nodded, and selected Jack. The trainer quickly called his Sneasel to his side. Rain was impressed at the choice. "One on one." He repeated.

The battle began quickly. Rain knew something was wrong when the Sneasel calmly sat with its legs crossed on the field, instead of swiping to get Jack from mid-air. Rain instructed Jack to use a powerful sky attack-the best angle to place some scars in the Sneasel's face. However, when Jack swooped down, the Sneasel simply raised its claw, never looking up. Jack was skewered onto the claw. Rain gasped audiably. Sneasel looked at his owner's face for reassurance, and when the nod was given, it swiped right down to Jack's bone. The wing came off at the shouler!

Rain ran onto the playing field. "I submit, I submit!" It was a cowardly admission, but Rain couldn't bear to watch Jack die. He softly pulled the wing from the Sneasels claw before it was re-called. The trainer sneered down at him.

"I wouldn't get on your high-horse JUST yet, Rain Ketchum." And with that, he was gone, though Rain wanted to follow him and have Azumarill crush Sneazel's skull. He held in the hot tears until he was sure the kid had gone, then fell to the ground to join his detatched pokemon. "No!" he cried. "No!"

Jack lay still, eyes pleading with him, a wing sawed off at the shoulder and blood staining the ground. He didn't caw, just looked confused. "I'm used to winning," He seemed to say. "You assured me this would never happen!"

Rain considered some sort of surgery, but Jack would never be the same again. Blood cascaded from the shoulder wound, and Jack stared at the hole glassily. Rain was sobbing, unready for the pain of being beaten, though he thought he'd mentally prepared daily. Shaking, he got to his feet, and walked stage left to find a boulder to smash over Jack's head, to put an end to the pain. He raised it above the pokemon's head, but Jack had already departed.


End file.
